“No. Lorimar was content here,” the swordsman replied. “I believe he wanted to live out his days in peace. Though he did have a daughter, and a marriage to her might have elevated any one of the lords toward that kingship…”
“What happened to the daughter?”
A long silence prevailed, as the dwarf looked back and forth between his companions. When he perceived they were looking at each other and paying no attention to him, he grabbed the two gnomes and stomped off back to the overgrown garden.
“You need to be a little more careful,” the white robe said to Jaymes, in a low, sympathetic voice. “You took a terrible risk in going to Caergoth. You were lucky I was there instead of in Palanthas. Next time you might not be so fortunate.”
“I had to go there,” the warrior said, his jaw set stubbornly. “I found what I was looking for. But… thanks for your help anyway.”
“Yes, my help,” she murmured.
He took off his glove, showing her the gold ring on the middle finger of his left hand. “It helped me a lot last time I came through Garnet too.”
“I’m glad.” She reached out a hand, brushing the stubble on his cheek tenderly. “I mean it. Be careful,” she said.
“I will. You be careful, too.”
Coryn nodded slowly. Looking at her, Jaymes was reminded how very beautiful she was, with her black hair fanned across the cowl of her hood, perfectly framing an oval face with high cheekbones and dark, mysterious eyes. After a moment the hint of a smile played across her full lips. She leaned forward, kissed the warrior softly. He put his rough hands on her shoulders very gently, as if afraid of dirtying her robe-which had, somehow, once again become immaculately white-and stepped away.
She whispered a word of magic and disappeared.
Jaymes stood by himself for a long time, brooding. Then he took a look around the ruins. His eyes lingered on the hulking remnant of the east wing, where the fire had been halted. The interiors of several rooms were visible, and he looked at one in particular: a chamber draped in ragged, blackened curtains that still betrayed a hint of blue silk material. The near wall had burned away, and the sagging floor barely supported the sodden, rotten remains of what had once been an elegant bed… a lady’s bed.
“Is she gone?” Dram asked, finally coming back from the garden. “Used her magic to disappear, did she? Makes my skin crawl just to think about it!” He shuddered in the common dwarfish aversion to all things magic. “We’re better off without her! Though she did give us a timely exit back there in the ghetto.”
“We’re lucky she bothered,” the warrior said.
“Yeah. Uh, speaking of luck, we’re lucky I went out to the garden just now. I got a good look at the road across the plain, and we have some visitors coming. Fast. Out of the East.”
Jaymes cocked an eyebrow.
“Yes, they’re riders all right, but they’re not coming on horseback,” Dram said. “My best guess is they’re goblins on wolfback. They’re spread out on both sides of the road but they aren’t traveling by highway, they’re moving faster on the grass.”
“What about the gnomes?” asked the man.
“Last I saw they were looking around in that direction,” Dram replied, indicating the shell of the manor’s west wing.
The two companions made their way along the front of the house, spotting the gnomes up in the second story of the ruin, bickering in what had once been a grand hallway.
“Something put out the fire,” Carbo insisted. “Rain wouldn’t be enough, see. I know all about rain. Probably it was a nitrogen-sulfate mix of some kind, designed to retard combustion.”
“No,” Sulfie objected, “you heard them, it burned itself out. See how it got to this stone balustrade, on the big stairs? It just petered out.”
“Poppycock and balderdash!” snorted the male gnome. “The stairs are wood- they would have burned! No, there was some kind of intervention. Perhaps a fire brigade came by and doused the flames.”
“Fire brigade? Ha, ha! From where? That’s just ridiculous. Maybe the stairs are fire-retardant-like ironwood! Did you think of that?”
“I thought of-”
“Rain.” Jaymes said from below, staring up at the two gnomes.
“Go away!” Carbo snapped down at him.
“I told you what happened: It started to rain,” the warrior continued, his tone flat. “The house was gutted in the middle, but the ends were still standing. It rained hard enough to put out the fire.”
“See!” said Sulfie. “You heard him. Rain!”
“Come on,” said the human, ignoring the two gnomes, who continued to debate. “We’ve got to get out of here-goblins are coming.”
The gnomes hastened down from their high perch, moving precariously along the edge of the half-burned staircase. Once they were safely on the ground, Jaymes pointed toward the back of the once-grand manor and spoke to Dram Feldspar. “You’ll find a shallow ravine just a stone’s throw from the back plaza. Take the gnomes, and wait for me there.”
“Aw, I don’t like waiting. You’re not going to do anything crazy now, are you?” asked the dwarf.
Jaymes shook his head, as Dram led the two gnomes away. Before they were out of sight, the warrior was moving forward at a crouch, concealing himself in the tangle of the overgrown garden, making his way around the hedge until he could see across the plains that extended, flat and brown, toward the eastern horizons.
He spotted the riders immediately, knew that Dram had been accurate. These were goblins riding those huge, shaggy wolves they often used as mounts. Their canine lope was unmistakable as the goblins were borne across the grassy flatland. A quick glance showed him at least two score of these outriders, with a larger column of goblins just beyond. The latter marched on foot but were making good time. All of them seemed to be verging on the ruin of Lord Lorimar’s manor.
Jaymes checked the wind. It was coming from the plains, blowing toward the four companions, so they would not be betrayed that way. The warrior ducked back, watching as the leading goblins drew up to the fringe of what had once been the garden. They dismounted, turning their great wolves free to lope on the plains, while the goblins drew their wickedly curved swords and started into what had once been the rose garden, hacking the blooming branches down as if they were jungle creepers.
Jaymes withdrew to join his comrades in the low gulley. From here they could peer between the thick grasses along the rim and, as long as the wind stayed friendly, keep an eye on the goblins with little chance of being spotted themselves.
The goblins swarmed through the blackened rubble, kicking around the broken timbers, whooping and cheering as they scrambled over debris. Several squawked and barked when they came upon the fresh hole where the steel box had been removed.
A goblin tore down one of the blue silk draperies from the lady’s bedchamber and threw it over his shoulders, a mockery of a regal cape. He pranced along the sagging edge of the broken floor until a rotten timber broke under his feet, plunging him unceremoniously into the tangled wreckage of the first floor. Moaning piteously, he was too injured to resist as another goblin came up to him and snatched away the material, leaving his stricken comrade pinned between two heavy, charred beams.
Gray clouds had rolled across the plains with the goblins. Now a chilly drizzle began to fall, and the marauders wearied of their unprofitable explorations. They withdrew to the garden, leaving a few pickets posted around the fringes of the ruin. As it grew dark, the orange glow of an immense bonfire brightened the interior of the hedge ring. The rain picked up, leaving the four companions stuck in their ravine soggy, miserable, and cold.
Even so, Jaymes said they should wait until dark before slipping away. Dram agreed. The two gnomes, huddled together under a single blanket with teeth chattering, had lost all their spirit. Hours later the warrior led them away, heading north behind the cover of rain and clouds and darkness blanketing the area.